enixlike, ornate:
Apollo drives his chariot of fire
Between the portals of the Golden Gate.

No other hand than His who rules on high,
Could wield the brush and spread such bright array
Upon the outstretched canvas of the sky,
Then draw the curtain of departing day.

[Illustration]

Brook and Waterfall

California, the land of sunshine and roses, with its genial climate,
its skies as blue as the far-famed skies of Venice, and its pure
life-giving air, invites the lover of nature to take long tramps over
hill and dale, mountain and valley, and to search out new trails in
the rugged mountains.

It is a common sight to see parties of men and women meet at the ferry
building, dressed in khaki suits, with knapsacks strapped on their
backs, waiting to take the boat across the bay to some of the numerous
places of interest. There are plenty to choose from, but most of them
go to the same places over and over, instead of searching out
unfrequented nooks that give one a feeling of proprietorship when
discovered. It is an old saying, and a trite one, that "Familiarity
breeds contempt." It is certainly true, however, that we often pass
over the familiar and commonplace to go into raptures over some lofty
mountain peak, ignoring the gems that lie hidden away at its very
base.

There is a quiet beauty in the broad sweep of the valley, a stately
majesty in the towering mountains, a restful grandeur in the rounded
domes of the tree-clad hills, and an element of strength in the broad
sweep of the ocean. One never tires of watching the constant change of
light and shade, for they never appear twice alike. But we are in
search of unfrequented nooks, the byways that others pass unnoticed,
so we leave the prominent to seek out the obscure.

To enjoy the out-of-doors at its best one needs a congenial companion;
one who does not tire on the trail nor find fault with the little
annoying things that are bound to occur on a long journey, but who, in
the silent contemplation of God's handiwork, best expresses his
appreciation of its wonderful beauty in silence; for there are times
when silent enjoyment of a landscape produces a subtle interchange of
thought that speaks louder than words.

Such a one is Hal, more like a brother than a son, and in winding over
tortuous trails and climbing the rugged sides of mountains we have
become good comrades; bound together by the invisible tie of "Nature
Lovers" and the "Call